


The way you make me feel inside

by bluphacelia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Sex, Discovery: A Voltron Xeno Zine, Dubious Consent, M/M, Other, Tentacle Sex, written for the xeno zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 17:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15054545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluphacelia/pseuds/bluphacelia
Summary: "The locals worship all spacecraft as gods. Doing only what they think the gods want." Each thrust makes him see stars. --Keith crash lands on an alien planet while on a mission for the Marmora. Regris comes and saves him.





	The way you make me feel inside

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags. You've been warned.
> 
> This was written for the [Xeno zine](https://voltronxenozine.tumblr.com/)! Go check out all that talent.

His hand slashes forward swiping the panels above trying to find the kill switch. It's not enough. 

The small vessel rattles and shakes, the panelling quaking beneath Keith's feet as he braces for impact. His fingers dig into the unfamiliar controls and the planet whirles closer and closer. The heat shield bursts into flame, his vision temporarily obscured as the shuttle enters the atmosphere. There is a sudden jerk. A loud explosion flicks him to the side like a rag doll with a deafening crack as something breaks. The ship shudders, tilting sharply to the left as the secondary engine shorts out. 

"Keith?" His comms light up and Regris' steady voice filters through into the small cabin.

"Kinda busy Reg," Keith says as the shuttle shakes again, the metal groaning against its confines. The fire flickers out and he can finally see the ground hurtle toward him at an alarming pace.

"I have your signal! Hold steady and I'll be there in—just keep—don't—" The communication breaks into static, leaving Keith alone in the cacophony of the cockpit. He takes a single deep breath, holds it for a second before pulling back on the controls and hits the breaks. The shuttle jolts but rights as the auxiliary power kicks in.

"Reg?" Keith yells, but the short frequency communications are toast and the shuttle console is just a mass of flashing red warning lights.

"I got this, I got this," he chants under his breath. The ground is coming up fast, a mass of blue and green and white. With another twist and flicking a few switches he manages to settle the craft into a glide toward one of the many islands below. He angles the nose up, hoping for air resistance as the beach below rushes closer. "Fuck. FUck. FuCK!"

The shuttle groans as it hits the ground. There is nothing Keith can do but huddle close, shielding his head as rocks and sand rattle against the windshield. It takes a long moment before he unfurls from his fetal position. Everything aches. He takes a trembling breath and attempts to wipe the sweat off his brow with his hand. Every single control seems to be blinking red at him but the motion has finally stopped. He swipes away the most blaring warning messages with words like "crashing" and "engine failure." The noise cuts out immediately. It leaves him with the current situation—petering oxygen count, the minimal supplies on board—and ringing ears.

He tries for the comms again. "Regris? Kolivan?" The result is nothing but white noise. 

Fucking—, Keith curses and starts doing inventory. Five days rations; he'd have to go for more water soon. He goes back to the console to run full diagnostics. The shuttle is badly damaged, with only auxiliary power left. Both engines are broken beyond repair, but at least he won't freeze to death. He also has a Marmora homing beacon, but with the full blunt of damage, he has to get it outside the metal cage of the ship for it to work reliably.

He checked the atmosphere—seventy-six percent nitrogen, twenty-three percent oxygen, the rest traces of other gases and water. It's actually shockingly similar to earth's atmosphere. There is something in the readings, a blip, something in Galra he doesn't recognize.

Keith lets himself fall back into the chair. He breathes, closes his eyes leaning forward on his hands. He didn't die. There's a shaky inhale and he wipes his eyes before standing and going to the hatch. From what he can tell the ship is pretty much belly down on the sand; the nose and windshield completely covered in white dust. He gives the hatch another look. It's stuck. He takes out his knife, activating it. The sword elongates and with a quick twirl of his wrist the door is done for. He pushes and the pieces fall to the ground outside.

He stands on a white beach. A purple ocean stands a quarter of a mile away, calm, not a single ripple on its surface. Keith turns, making his way toward the white sand dunes. They should be tall enough for the beacon. 

The dune is easy enough to climb and he has the beacon in place within thirty minutes. The surrounding beach leads up to a lush forest in all shades and he takes a moment to admire the alien planet.

There's a sound. A rustle, and Keith twists, dislodging a small avalanche of sand down the dune.

"Huh?" Keith squints into the distance. He was certain he'd heard something. There's another shift of sand under his feet and he finally looks down at the same moment as something wraps around his ankle. It tugs. Keith falls through the sand. His vision blurs, hands grasping at nothing. There's a pulse of startling pain—

Everything is purple. Keith blinks his eyes. His head throbs. What happened?

The crash. The beach. The sand. He sits up and deactivates his mask groaning as his fingers come back red. He looks at it, rubbing the blood between his fingers. He brushes his fingers through his hair, but the wound is already closing up. He turns his head.

Everything around him is stone—the walls, the floor, except for the far wall which is made up of purple. Light streams through the standing liquid, the purple filtering whatever sunlight is coming from above. He gets up, legs wobbly as he makes his way to the purple. His hand comes up to touch it. It's damp, but solid. He pushes a finger further. It breaks apart, squishes like jello to the touch.

A sudden cough echoes through the space.

Keith swirls around and is confronted by a full battalion of tiny furry creatures in all shades of white and gray.

"Oh great one!" The first one throws itself onto the ground and the rest follow suit.

"Huh?" Keith replies.

"We have seen your approach in the stars! A great flying—" The translator hiccups. "—to celebrate there will be a great feast of plenty!" The creature throws its hands in the air and a huge bellowing cry fills the small chamber.

"Uh—"Keith repeats. "Thanks? But I really need to get back to my—"

His words are ignored. Maybe the creatures don't have translation technology. He looks at them more closely, they definitely don't have translation technology. They swarm around him, pulling at his hands and legs, none of them coming higher than his waist. 

"Okay, okay! I'm coming," Keith mutters and starts walking toward the small alcove they'd appeared from. The creatures pull him into the dark, eyes reflecting the purple light. Keith tries to get to his mask, but both his arms are pulled down. There is a nugget of panic, but he squishes it, readying for action the moment he gets to wherever they are leading him.

They walk in silence for what feels like hours, but then sunlight filters through a bend and Keith feels his shoulders relax.

"The Great One shall be served only the best!" A tiny creature states up ahead, waving its three fingered paw at the light.

Keith turns the corner and walks up the few steps carved into the stone, the tiny creatures staying well back inside the cavern. Waiting.

"Thank you?" Keith states. He takes a breath. 

The cavern opens up into a clearing with the forest looming foreign around him. His skin prickles and he can feel all his pores pop as he breaks into a sweat. Everything is hot, the air itself humid and clinging, the fabric of his suit sticking to his skin.

He takes another deep breath and the air turning to jello. A sickly warning bell rings at the back of his head, but all he can do is fall down to his knees as the little folk cheer.

"What did you do?" His words come slurred as they stumble against each other. 

A shadow moves through the trees. He can see it from the corner of his eye. Something big. The little folk don't seem to care and Keith has a sudden suspicion that the Great One they mentioned is not him.

The world tilts on its axis and he falls—falls for what seems like decades into darkness.

The second time Keith wakes up he's naked. There is a sickly sweet scent in the air and just as soon as he's fully aware of his surroundings, a sudden terrible arousal claws its way through him, dashing every other thought into oblivion.

He opens his eyes to dusk, the sky a brilliant orange streaked with reds and pinks and greens. Ears ringing, he groans as another wave of lust shatters his senses. He moves to sit up, but something is holding him down. It coils around his arms, his torso, his legs pulling them apart. 

Another wave of pleasure rocks him and he finally looks down. He's lying on something soft, a bed, a soft green and purple rope holding him down. There is no pain, nothing but pleasure as something rocks through him again.

"Wh—" Keith begins, pulling at the binds at his arms, only to feel something move along his arm. The small hairs of his arm raise and he fights off a full body shiver. His breath stutters as a tentacle—that was the only word he had for the appendage—snakes around his bicep. His heart stutters and he wrenches at his arm readying for a shout. He's stalled as something slips past his open lips. The world dims again, colors muted as he tastes a sweet tang on his tongue and then something tickles down his throat. It makes him relax, fall further as another push makes him see stars.

A small part of him at the back of his mind knows what's happening. Knows that something is making him feel this way, feel this good like he is cresting through an everlasting orgasm keeping him on the verge and not letting him come.

He must have passed out again because when he comes to there is the familiar growl of Regris' voice close by. He blinks his eyes open. It's dark now, a glow of something bioluminescent casts shadows through the small shelter in the midst of the trees. There is chirping that he vaguely recalls as the creatures and then Regris is in front of him.

"Reg," Keith says, the sound drawn out and heady. He gasps, breath stuttering as a tentacle flicks his lips.

"Keith," Regris says, hand coming up to cup his cheek. "I'll get you out."

There is a low whine and it takes Keith a moment to realize it comes from him. "Please," he begs, not exactly sure what he wants. "I need." He can feel tears prick his eyes. He shudders and he can feel himself crest toward orgasm once more.

"I did warn you," Regris grumbles as he pushes away the tentacles and helps him to sit up. There's still something inside him and the movement pushes it deeper. Keith clutches onto the black fabric of Regris' Marmora suit, knuckles white and aching. Everything is aching.

Keith turns his eyes up. Up to that emotionless mask. He needs to do something, he needs this feeling to go away, he needs to come.

Regris pulls at him, up and away from the warm confines of the living bed, but that's not right. Keith needs this. He needs Regris here with him. He snakes his arms around Regris' neck, fingers finding the secure latch of his mask and just like in training the mask falls free. There is a moment of fumbling and Keith finally finds lips, pushes up to his tiptoes and then falls backwards, pulling Regris back on top of him. His legs clamp around his waist, tongue slipping past his lips at the surprised and with a sudden clarity Keith hasn't felt in what feels like days he knows what he needs.

"I need you to fuck me," Keith sobs, thrusting his hips up and finally something seems to sense that it's time and his cock feels lighter and he feels a surge of precome across his stomach. He feels a tiny pull and his ass is also free, empty and aching around nothing. "I need it, I need it, I need it." The words mingle as his lips find skin to kiss, hands gripping at the suit, wanting it off, wanting to feel skin against skin.

Keith squirms as two hands grip his wrists, high above his head, and then they are held by something else as the hands slide down his sides. It's hard to focus, but he tries, catching Regris' eyes, pupils blown so far that it's swallowed the beautiful amber. 

Regris steps back and a short wail slips through his lips. He needs this more than air, he needs hands on him, he needs Regris' cock inside him right now or he'll die.

He feels his legs shift, pulled wide as Regris shrugs his suit down his shoulders. It disappears from view and Keith feels anticipation make his blood boil. He sees Regris' cock and then the second.

"Please." Slips past his lips again and he feels his own dick weep incessantly against his stomach.

"They really did a number on you didn't they," Regris growls. He lines himself up and Keith throws his head back, waiting, feeling a soft touch against the cleft of his cheeks.

Regris thrusts in, the tapered cocks pushing against each other, fitting in perfectly. Keith keens, back arching impossibly high only to have strong hands on his hips, keeping him in place as he finally is filled to the brim.

"I warned you," Regris gasps as he pulls back and thrusts back in, brutal, savage, not giving Keith a moment to breath before his hips slap against his thighs over and over.

"I warned you not to get out of the shuttle." Regris grunts between each of his words. "I told you the air wasn't suitable for you." There's a hand on Keith's cock and his vision blurs as fresh tears spill over. He doesn't remember crying, but his eyes burn and his throat catches on another moan.

"The locals worship all spacecraft as gods. Doing only what they think the gods want." Each thrust makes him see stars. He comes, shuddering as the mess spreads across his chest. He doesn't even remember if he came before.

He feels fingers dig into his hips, and Regris halts, pushing himself as deep as he can and Keith can feel warmth flood through his system. He's already hard again, trembling against the creature he's been using as a bed since he woke up drowned in bliss. 

Something slithers over his stomach and his eyes automatically track the movement. It's another tentacle, small and precise, rolling around in his come making itself slick.

"Fuck," Regris gasps and starts again without pulling out. Keith feels his stomach stretch and he groans wanting nothing more than that hand on his dick again, something, anything to pull him away from the never ending need to come.

He feels himself arch, pushing back as Regris pulls him closer, closer.

"Oh!" Keith cries, eyes bursting open as he feels something new push in—in-between the hard trusts of the two cocks already inside him. He feels his legs shake, toes curl as another orgasm wrecks through him just from a single precise push against his prostate. 

Keith can feel another tentacle curl across his stomach, laveshing itself in come and Keith closes his eyes, letting his senses drown as he gets stretched and stretched again until his world is nothing but bright white pleasure bordering on pain.

It's dark when Keith wakes up for the third time. Dark in the sense of space and not the natural dark of a starry night planet-side. He shifts under the coarse military blanket and he feels his nipples, raw against the fabric, hard and throbbing.

"Regris?" Keith mutters, voice broken and weak, hands clutching to the blanket as he pushes himself up to sitting using the wall next to the small cot as leverage. 

He's in a small room, nothing but the cot and a desk. He aches all over, his hips, his thighs, his ass. He wipes at his face, but he's been washed clean, but the memory of tear tracks down his cheeks is vivid in his mind. It's cold under the single blanket, as he lies in nothing but ill-fitting small clothes.

The door swishes open on a silent track revealing Regris, back in his Marmora suit carrying a stack of clothes in his hands.

"And this is why I'm not going to let you out of my sight," Regris scolds as he hands over the clothes. It's Keith's suit and underwear, freshly washed and pressed. "No one gets to fuck you but me. Not even a plant on an aphrodisiac laced planet."

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me: [tumblr](http://bluphacelia.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/blu_tweets).


End file.
